The Impulse of Everlasting Sequence
by Maraytia
Summary: When Lithuania moves to New York City in America for a short time, strange things start to happen. He meets a youth who looks similar to him in many ways and others who aren't your average teens– but Poland begins to act strange around the one called Alex
1. Waking Up is A Really Good Start

How the soldiers marched on taking Vilnius, the historical capital of Lithuania, was like a disease spreading throughout one's body only this illness started from the heart and was working its way to the brain. Polish soldiers marched to take more lands that included the temporary capital threatening the independence of the country. Darkened clouds completely blanketed the bluebird sky from the war below protecting its innocence from the conflicting nationalities that fought for land they believed was rightfully theirs. They continued on meeting little to no resistance, as Toris looked down upon the streets from up high, catching his breath as he watched them take a part of his homeland. His emerald eyes flickered in sadness, chest sore from the emotional hurt. Feliks, his friend who was Polish, was somewhere in the midst of this was _aiding _the mutiny despite that he disagreed with the movement. In times like these, he wishes he were just a normal human being so that he didn't have to deal with inconsistent relations with others. Nations were always shifting to be allies or enemies, making this near immortal life difficult for Toris and others like him. No matter how good of friends he was with Feliks, the decision of the country they were born under was stronger than that bond, but right now he felt more betrayed.

Slowly, he began to walk the other way when his leg slipped from under him and the Earth made a horrendous skull cracking noise. He tumbled down a cliff that didn't used to be there grunting as he hit his shoulder and the back of his head on solid rock. He came to a painful halt as a curved upward ledge stopped him from rolling down any further. Toris looked around confused, observing his bizarre surroundings. The buildings that once neatly followed along the street had become warped and deformed by the sudden yawned crevice. Some of them were beginning to crumble away, losing their grip as a whole due to the awkward angle they now rested. The Lithuanian heard a cry of surprise as another body fell down. He rolled right past Toris only to just barely get a grip in the cracks somewhere below, hanged over a river of fire. Like hungry chicks, the fire leapt up waiting for its prey to fall into their gaping mouths. The other yelped in fright as he looked down.

"S-someone! Help!"

Toris pushed past the terrible headache the fall had given him and peered over the edge to see who else had stumbled down. It was younger man looked just like him and was hanging below trying to keep a desperate hold onto a piece of a crumbling building, frightened of falling into the roaring flames. The whole world had turned black and hazy, the sound of the soldiers stomping through the vanished city still audible somewhere in the chaos.

"H-help me," the younger version of him cried with tears ready to run from his dust-blinded eyes. "P-please, help me!"

Toris was bewildered, taking in deep breaths of the abruptly thick humid air. He carefully crawled down to the lower, tiny ledge trying save his other self who sobbed in terror as he slipped a little. Slowly, the other reached up to grab the Toris outstretched hand and just as they were an inch out of reach, the older brunette began to slip too. A herd of small rocks and dust noisily ran past and out of nowhere, the brunette felt someone grab hold of his wrist. Toris looked up to see a familiar person trying to keep him in place.

"It's okay, Toris! I like, totally got you!" It was Feliks. The blonde looked just as disbelieving in the situation, but was determined not to let his long time friend go.

Toris turned back to see himself below form silent words with his lips as he slipped even farther down until the building gave way and he fell down into the fiery blaze, feathered flames devouring his body. He felt his stomach churned sickly in fear, heart pounding wildly. Unable to do anything more he rolled back over on his belly preparing to pull himself up, but the feeling of dread was overwhelming and his other arm was sore from hanging.

"Feliks," the brunette felt his foot slip. "Feliks, help me up!"

Desperately, he looked up at his friend only to be met by an icy cold look that gave him chills despite the heat that surrounded them. Olive eyes stared down seeming unconcerned, devoid of any emotion they had before. The man holding him was no longer recognizable. To Toris' confusion, the similarly golden haired stranger leaned in closer to his ear, the corner of his mouth forming into an evil triumphed grin. The rest of the world seemed to fade into nothingness as he came closer.

"Vilnius belongs to me," his voice purred. Then he wielded a dark skinned creature with a long slender mouth in his right hand. The glow of the fire glinted in its thin slithery eyes, it's back angled downward where the gloved hand grasped firmly, finger on a thin trigger. Its cold lips came to press upon Toris' temple. Anger and fear mixed together boiled behind evergreen irises, making him tremble and his body stiffened ready to somehow throw himself back up against his enemy. Toris hollered a cry of protest when a loud bang split the air and–

He jolted upright in bed covering in cold sweat, breathing heavily and shaking. The young man looked about the room not knowing where he was, the thrill of adrenaline still lively in his veins. A loud meow darted his wide emerald eyes toward the floor where a long furred creature with large yellow eyes stared up. Again she let out an urgent yowl while rubbing her long figure against the bed. The last traces of the dream slipped off like snake's skin as he became aware of the textures of his bedsheets and familiar scents of the room. Noticing his alarm clock on the floor, Toris realized she had knocked it off to wake him. He sighed reaching to put it back in its place when the thought hit him. His feline, Rasa, only knocked over things when she knew he was forgetting something.

He searched the clock face for a time and it read 7:30AM. He was going to be late for work! Toris leapt out and ran for the bathroom to get ready, and Rasa just jumped onto the foot of the bed and washed her face as she purred.

x.X.x

It has been a year since Toris came to here to New York City looking for a job (a friend who lived here was able to help him before he had to return to Washington D.C to deal with troublesome politics). It was only for a little while that he needed to be here before returning to Kaunas, Lithuania. He wasn't too unfamiliar with the stuffiness and muddled masses of people of New York, but admits the population has grown considerably since he first immigrated here for a short time around the 1919 after World War I for the same reason. It wasn't that there were no good jobs back at home; it was only because when you can and have lived for several centuries, it doesn't hurt to move around a little bit instead of just being stuck in one place all the time. It was sort of like a long vacation without the relaxing and doing whatever you wanted the entire time. Oh well, this idea _was_ suggested by his boss back in Europe, it was just him who thought of New York City.

He maneuvered his way through the people, finding his usual route to work. The streets were filled with loud clamoring of voices, the air polluted with the crude smell of car exhaust. Some people sat lazily or looked at their watch waiting impatiently for the city bus. Others just pushed through the mass of warm bodies rather roughly and a few eyed their surroundings slyly as they leaned silently against the many story buildings. Certain vendors ambled about, preparing for another day of selling newspapers or other items. Skyscrapers stood above all like kings and nobles, watching the vehicles begin to jam up the streets in a morning rush. Bright yellow taxis and long city buses zipped along their usual paths on schedule, assisting the many others who also needed to hurry off to their jobs. Other cars just move like a large wave as one, passing through lights as they were permitted or pulled apart like a child cruelly stringing apart a rope of yarn as they parted ways. A colorful array of advertisements on huge electronic screens lined up along the buildings with large signs of restaurants or stores rivaling on who stood out most. Some were suave and smooth in text and others were big and bold. The gigantic TV like screens were just flashy and a bunch of show offs making their text trot across the screen in a never-ending loop. Outside of the busy place, streets were undecorated by fancy lights and big bulletin luxuries only standing with dull gray and red colors. They didn't reflect the light like the many large sparkly eyes of Times Square. Despite that they held nothing special they refused to crumble away intimidated by the luminous area, proud to be of use to the people who inhabited them.

He swerved to the entryway of the subway station where he rode the train to work. Shoes tapped against the cement stairs down onto the lower ground and he ran to where the train was waiting. He weaved through people who were stood around or wondered slower and passed by a few young teens who were performing street dances for people who bothered to watch. The rushed Lithuanian had no time to stand there and watch himself, but the eyes of those dancers fell into him curiously as he passed.

"Yo, Sebastian," one of the performers called out rather loudly with an accent.

Toris didn't think to identify it but knew it wasn't American or like his own. The girl's high voice however ended up startling him and sounded rather close behind. He turned his head to look back only to crash into a towering adolescence who looked about seventeen. They both let out a grunt in surprise and Toris looked up apologetically to the one taller than him.

"Эй, watch it," the other almost shouted in a thick Russian accent.

He was about to apologize when he noticed that the teen had a cat rested around his shoulders like a fluffy white scarf with a dark masked face, socks and tail. The Russian rubbed his cat's chin rather fondly while rubbing his cheek on its head. The feline purred affectionately.

"I-I'm very sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you," Toris tried to yell over the packed subway. The Russian stared thoughtfully at him as if they might have met before. His hair was short and a very washed out blonde and eyes were shallow pools of icy blue-gray. He didn't look upset anymore and almost child like despite his age.

"You should be apologizing to Sweet Honey," he said. "She was resting comfortably until you showed up and woke her."

"I'm very sorry," Toris said again, his voice wavered a little. Even though he wasn't an obvious threat, this tall, younger gentleman was a little intimidating. Toris slowly pushed past quietly and said his departing words. "Please excuse me, I have to go."

The Russian stranger watched him go like a perched eagle that spotted prey. It sent chills up the other's back as he once again hurried off. Toris couldn't wait to get away not bothering to hear what the girl with long dark blonde locks said as her eyes also trailed after the running-late man in a narrowed glare.

As if it couldn't get any worst, the rest of the way to work was horrifying. There were several other places that he saw teenagers swinging their bodies and tossing limbs about wildly in freestyle to music and every time, every _single one_ he walked past, they stopped and stared directly at him. At first he looked over his shoulders to see if they were looking at something else, but the attention was meant only for him. Some of them appeared friendly somehow knowing his name and tried to invite him over while others seemed to glower uncertainly. At first Toris just continued to walk by ignoring all of it, but the pressure increased as more of them peeked over and he ran. He didn't relax to catch his breath until he was in the elevator, up on his way to the office where he would spend most hours of today. Toris couldn't imagine what that was all about and tried to push the thought away. There was paperwork that needed to be signed, phone calls to make, and faxes to be sent. What a wonderful day this was going to be.

_Author's Notes: Chapter one of this really long fanfic sort of thing I wrote relating to Hetalia because I used Lithuania/Toris Laurinaitis and Poland/Feliks Łukasiewicz. All other characters in the story are made up and it's sort of like a "what if" sort of story. I really need to finish my other one I've been working on that actually happens before this story. This one is sort of a follow up. I don't know if I will continue to post since this is sort of an experiment also to understand how uploading stuff works._

_There probably are still some errors, but I wouldn't mind if people pointed them out. Any help is appreciated._


	2. The Cat is Watching the Bird Fly

The office was no different than it was the day before. The numerous cubicles were lined and bundled together in a large room where several workers took their places. Telephones would ring and the room would be filled with a level volume voice, or sometimes one that split the silence more abruptly. Some chairs croaked as they rolled across the carpet flooring or squeaked when leaned into but not many seemed to mind even though it was sometimes disruptive. Desks were neatly assembled for each day of work with one computer and a flat screen for keeping an electronic record of things. The keyboard was parallel in angle with the computer monitor off to one corner and the mouse rested silently nearby. Underneath each desk was a little drawer that could roll out smoothly that held other utensils like paper clips, pencils, pens and bright neon sticky notes. It was often a little less organized than the rest of the workspace since those things are a bit harder to keep in order when used several times a day. The walls of the cubicles were not quite as neat either although it varied upon the worker. Most employees had three full walls that towered over them, the fourth having space to enter and exit. These walls were often decorated with reminders written on sticky notes or photographs of their family to help encourage them along with their hard days. Maybe they have a son or daughter who drew them a picture with crayons and markers that had sweet smiley face drawn upon it taped to the wall too, but even with a humble cubicle, work was still very stressful and a huge attention eater.

Working his way across the room to his post was Toris. He worked five days a week for eight hours usually sitting at his desk in the dull or sometimes high strung atmosphere sorting through papers and sending them out. A couple friendly co-workers greeted him good morning and he just quickly nodded in reply. After making it to his workspace, he sat down and got to work. The working hard brown haired man probably could have chose a different job like working as the bagboy at a store, but it seemed like no matter where he went, Toris got stuck with paperwork. He supposed it was what he is best at even though he is often overworked.

Later that day, the phone at his desk chimed loudly and he swiveled in his chair to answer it, finishing the last two words of his thoughts on a paper he had been working on. The pen fell over with a 'tink' when he was done swiftly reading it over to make sure it was what he wanted. After raising the phone to his ear, he recognized the voice immediately and groaned. It was Feliks.

"No I can't go with you, Feliks," he sighed. "I'm still at work and won't get out for another couple hours."

"Aww, but Toris," A voice on the other side whined. "We hardly get to hang out anymore ever since you got that dumb job."

"I have to support myself somehow. Paying for the apartment and caring for Rasa and myself-"

"You still have that cat?"

"You gave her to me for my birthday, of course I kept her!"

Toris turned his chair a little to organize some papers while keeping the phone firmly between his cheek and shoulder. On a few of them, he quickly scanned through each paragraph checking off things or circling options given. The pen glided smoothly under his fair, even grip as he signed over the bottom. He had already done this about one hundred times and his eyes were growing bored of it, but he motivated himself to push through the work.

"Oh yeah, I totally forgot," Feliks replied nonchalantly. "I honestly didn't think you'd keep her and I didn't know what else to get you. Oh and I almost forgot! When I was walking around the mall today, I saw this one guy and he like, looked just like you! I totally freaked out at first cause I thought it was you but then I saw he had kinda curly hair and it was darker. He wears the back of it in a ponytail like you do sometimes. Totally different eye color, but I swore he made similar expressions as you, and guess what people call him."

The brunette stuck in the office rolled his eyes. His friend was easily amazed by anything and couldn't imagine why he should bother to care about this. Toris decided to play along anyway like he always did. He tried once to pass off a conversation with his friend, but ended up being yelled at until he listened.

"What did they call him," he asked. "And please make it quick. I don't want to get caught being distracted from work."

"They called him Taurus!" The blonde shouted obnoxiously into the phone making him cringe and inch the phone away from his ear. "You know, like the star thing? Only-"

"Laurinaitis," a different voice in the office called.

"Ah, y-yes," Toris turned his attention toward the person who called him by last name.

"The boss wants t' have a word with you," the older man's voice rumbled. "I reckon you see him soon as possible."

"Y-yes," he stuttered. "Right away! Feliks, I have to go. I'll talk to you after work."

"But-"

The phone was placed back on its holder with a click and Toris got up nervously. After making sure his desk didn't look like a windstorm had hit it, he began to find his way to the boss's office. If he was in trouble again about personal calls on the phone, he was going to give Feliks a piece of his mind. His friend had promised to stop and it seemed to work until today. Who cared if there was someone who looked _almost exactly _like him and had almost the exact same name? It wasn't a good enough reason to call. To Toris' relief, the boss only wanted to see him and request that the paper he wanted done to be finished sooner than originally planned. The seemingly young employee went back to his office to finish it immediately and turned it in just before due time. Saying nothing more, Toris' boss waved him away. Another hour passed and it was time to put everything in its place, grab his coat and leave. He yawned and stretched once outside, starting his way home. Thank goodness it was the weekends.

x.X.x

Feliks bumbled about the streets during rush hour, moving with the never-ending crowds trying to make his way back to his own place. He was tired of walking the last five hours exploring the flashy City Square. He just wanted to go home and rest for a bit, then go over to Toris' place to plan a night out together. Toris was always the busier one out of the two with the lead heavy burdens of life weighing on his mind. Feliks felt it was his job to give the man a break, although it didn't always turn out that way.

After navigating around for a agonizing half an hour with sore feet, he turned off to a quieter street to take the shortcut. The sounds of the city were still very present as well as the pungent odors of tar and carbon dioxide, but it was definitely quieter around here. It was actually kind of nice. Feliks was used to living in a populated city, but not this thickly populated. Warsaw didn't have nearly this many people packed in one place. There was always the chance to get away from it all too if one wanted, but standing in the middle of New York City, it didn't seem possible. Shrugging off the thought, he continued striding casually along thinking about how Toris, being the worrywart he always is, often warned him not to take these kind of streets alone. Something bad might happen. Feliks had assured his friend not to worry and that he could take care of himself, but even then he might have began to doubt that, taking a look back every now and then and observing the surroundings walled by towering architectures. He clumsily tripped on a slightly raised, fractured part of the sidewalk barely managing to catch himself and cursed at it. The hair on his arms seemed to prickle underneath the pink jacket he wore over his white tee, but the Pole didn't bother with it. Wandering past a window, he saw his reflection glint darkly. He stopped and turned to stare at the glassy doppelganger. It smiled at him devilishly.

"And just when he thought he can relax," his reflection said to himself. "Finally, I can get my revenge."

"Oh great, not you again," Feliks said to it, rolling his eyes.

"Ha, I actually kind of like it here," it said. "It's fun hiding behind this stupid face of yours, even though I hate your clothing."

Feliks let out a sound that he had been insulted, wanting to punch the window, but he held the urge. Instead he looked at the other up and down as if he was preparing for a comeback but couldn't think of any. The Pole wasn't always good with witty things to throw back at people, however if he got angry enough, he would try anyway.

"Copycat," the Polish turned to leave the other behind. "Your face ruins my good looks. Go follow someone else."

"Oh how rude," it looked genuinely hurt.

He forced the corner of Feliks' lips to curl, throwing his head back into a mad incredulous laugh. The doppelganger in the window was amused and proud of how he managed to lie dormant all this time until he found who he was looking for. His plan of sticking with the dumb Lithuanian worked even though it was his error to assume Toris was his target in the first place. Since earlier that day at the mall, when he saw _him_ there, a plan had begun to boil however.

"Don't ever let me catch you pulling anything, Emile," Feliks was finished with this discussion and stormed off to get away.

"We shall see," his lip moved again against his will. "We'll see which one of us will win."

Feliks rushed down the street once again on his way back to where he was originally headed. Along the way there were two teens trying to talk over the loud music they played from a large radio to one another. They ignored him as he passed, but the song still proclaimed its words deafeningly into his left ear.

_Nice work you did_

_You're gonna go far, kid_

_ Author's note: So I don't actually know how often I will post the chapters since I have most of it already typed, I just need to finish it, look over it and have some changes done to the plot, but since I have parts still missing in places, it may take longer for me to post later chapters. I will try to make them longer though since six pages on Microsoft Word looks pathetically like two pages on Fanfic because the text goes all the way across the browser on a computer monitor xD_

_ This originally was a project for my Creative Writing Class, but then my art teacher ditched the entire thing just because it was fifty something pages and only wanted my first chapter… but now that I can do whatever I want with it and not worry about a due date, it will probably be quite a bit longer. Probably will be the longest thing I ever write in my life for a school project since that's what it originally was…. _


	3. Birds Gather On The Deck

Toris had just begun to put the key into the lock on the door when he heard a voice yelling at him. Bright yellow hair, jade toned eyes and fair fashion style clothes, it automatically dawned on him who it was. He groaned taking a deep breath trying to control his prickling irritation. All he wanted to do was lay down and have the rest of the evening alone. Reluctantly, he turned to reply when something blinded his vision with pitch black and he felt someone pull him backwards, placing a gloved hand over his mouth so he couldn't scream. Soon after, he even heard Feliks let out a sound of surprise before abruptly being silenced. He couldn't tell where they were going or why after being gagged, having his wrists tied firmly behind him and being thrown into the back of a small car. At least, that's what it seemed like. Feliks was squirming around next to him just as unhappy about the situation. The seats felt a little slippery and were fortunately comfortable to sink down into. It was textured in places like fish scales and the air smelled sickly of leather. The fabric that kept their hands together was only tight enough to disable any chance to escape. It wasn't rough in texture or thick like rope though. The windows must have been heavily tinted for no one on the outside to notice them held captive.

"Just relax and you'll be better off," came an airy whisper as Toris struggled to get free.

Finally, they gave up, muffling words from behind the material that disabled their ability to speak before falling silent. The car shuddered letting out a low muttering noise before starting up and drove forward. The feeling of several stops, a few right turns and a few lefts was obvious, but where they were exactly going, neither of the two could imagine. Both bodies remained tense to keep themselves from falling forward or slamming back into the seats. Several long moments passed before any of their abductors spoke. One of them sounded strangely familiar.

"Are you sure this was necessary," asked one of them. "We could have just asked nicely for them to get in the car."

"Shut up, Sebastian," the other growled. "We couldn't have just gone up and say 'hey, will you get in my car?' They would have thought we were a couple of thugs or creepers, dude!"

"Да, да, but this really wasn't a very bright idea either," Toris heard him shift in his seat to look back at them. "They're probably thinking we're going to take them to some abandoned place, take off their clothes and cut them open while they're still alive. Take a peek at their warm insides."

"Dude, that is totally gross," the driver's seat creaked in protest as the other sank into it. "Why do you always have to think such things?"

"It's your fault, Samuel. Next time, you should let me handle it, да? With things looking like this, I'll never be able to take Marlene out on that date I promised her tonight. She really wanted to take a nice walk in Central Park."

"Keep yourself _away_ from my sister, commie," Samuel shouted angrily at the Russian.

"My, my," Sebastian tsked. "And you say I have a horrible mind. Marlene and I doing _that_ in the park? How vulgar."

The air was filled with an awkward silence. Even though he couldn't see it, Toris could tell that the one in the passenger was smiling. The two tied up men really had no idea what kind of captors they were dealing with, but it was apparent that they didn't like one another. A small click sounded from the front, and quiet rap music flowed through the air.

"I'm very sorry about all this," Sebastian to them suddenly said in a honey coated, cheerful voice.

"Dude, shut up already," the likely American teen grumbled. "I hate being partnered up with you. I don't care what Olivia says; next time that Brit chick says you should come with me, I am not listening to her."

"Can't we just be frien-"

"No. We're here," Sam's hand tapped the steering wheel, unable to wait any longer to get the person sitting in his passenger out of the vehicle.

The surrounding air was soon filled with what sounded like something loud drumming the air as it vibrated with a strong push. It was unmistakably music that pulsed rhythmically through the air in a rich quick beat. It bellowed big and loud as words rose high and low, even stretched long in notes. The lyrics spoke about standing out from the crowd to gain the attention of one person, and how they would not give up until that attention was gained. With it was the sound of people cheering, sounding deeply impressed with something Toris couldn't see no thanks to the blindfold. The car came to quick halt and the door flew open closest to Feliks. The two were dragged out of the car and were being pushed to move forward.

"Taurus is not going to like this," the brunette heard Sebastian murmur. He let out a muffled sound asking "who."

Soon a new beat tumbled through the air, a voice was telling people to gather around and the blindfold was finally taken off. Toris' mouth fell open as he looked about his new surroundings. It was dark except for the colorful lights that waved their arms around just like the several bodies moving in the room. Different groups of people were under their own set of blue, green, red or purple spotlights displaying various dances. Girls were swinging their hips and twirling their arms and guys were free styling, throwing their lower body up while balancing on angled elbows or provoking one another by pumping out their chests. Wild dances like jumpstyle and shuffling hopped to the rhythm of flashing lights, and more elegant dances like salsa heated up under rare hot pink bursts. Large areas were cleared for the glowing rays that buzzed in a circular or curved motion around an invisible body, vaguely revealing the person responsible for the wonderful hypnotizing display. A multitude of smells were mixed in the open air. Perfumes and body spray were strong within the warm air. Some were rose sweet and others were sharp and tangy that burned. Feliks' expression was neither amazed nor scared as he gazed around cautiously almost like he was looking for something.

In the current song being played, a woman's voice drew out a word long and sweet echoing in the perimeter. In the center of the floor, a woman twirled into view under a large white spotlight into the arms of a man waiting. Her strawberry blonde locks spray like how water flies when a hand skims the top and their eyes met adoringly in one another's arms. The man she came to had shoulder length dark chocolate locks that were not too spontaneously curly nor to casual and glowing blue eyes that could be seen from afar under the bright beam. The back of his hair was tied back neatly, leaving only a set of locks to fall over his ears and bangs that barely touched the outer corner of his eyes. Those eyes only focused on the woman before him as if nothing else in the universe mattered while he took hold of her and both whirled around and then dancing in liquid movements synced as one. In many ways, he did looked a lot like Toris with the hair, similar face shape and body structure that was not too thin and sturdy in strength. It was easy to see why someone might mistake the two, and he realized this must be who Feliks was telling him about earlier. This must be the other named "Taurus." It wasn't until the song was over and people were cheering did he realize his wrists had been untied.

The bombastic music returned as quickly as it stopped and all the people went back to partying till their feet couldn't jiggle anymore and the couple began walking towards Sebastian who was waving at them. They gave one another a brief kiss as they moved along through the crowd. Toris felt a lump build up in his throat. He couldn't think of what he could say to the other drawing nearer and wanted to retreat, but another part of him nailed his feet to the ground. Like a magnetic pull, something else wanted him to communicate with this stranger named Taurus, and he couldn't think why. He doesn't even know him– but soon the dark haired young man was too close to turn and run and so Toris just blurted out the only thing that he was thinking of.

"Are you Taurus?" He asked nervously as his heart thumped loudly in his chest as he faced the somewhat identical twin of him. The other's blue moons grew huge.

"Åh nej," he let out an embarrassed chuckle. "That is not my real name. It's a uh– stage name I think. My real name is Alexander Laurinsson, but just Alex for short."

"Ah," Toris relaxed a little and offered his hand in greeting. "I-I'm Toris Laurinaitis."

"Are you Lithuanian?" Alex asked curiously.

"H-How do you," Toris was stunned at his guess.

"Your name. I can tell it's Lithuanian," Alex answered and gave a thoughtful look. "In fact I was born in Lithuania, but I grew up in Sweden."

"Oh, really? Lucky guess," Toris smiled shyly.

"Is that why you are here, to clear up your name? He laughed again. "I apologize. The title Taurus, like the bull, just stuck after a crazy acquaintance here in America yelled it while I was dancing in the streets one day."

"You're a very good dancer."

"Thank you." Alex then gestured to the lady next to him, who had been listening quietly. "This is my partner and long time girlfriend, Anneliese."

"You are that guy Sebastian met today," she returned rather quietly looking over him from head to toe. Toris had barely heard her.

"Yeah I didn't mean to," Toris looked over his shoulder at the tall teen who nodded as sign of acceptance of his apology.

He noticed the blonde hiding standing behind him and let out a yelp. Trembling Toris had forgotten Feliks was still here and was not surprised he didn't introduce himself. The Pole was shy especially toward strangers and would probably make a fuss before actually talking to someone he didn't know. Toris was thankful it was dark so the others couldn't see his face flushed red with embarrassment as he turned and pushed Feliks in front so he could be noticed. He let out a surprised sound of protest before looking up at the Swede. Alex had taken one look at Feliks and his expression went from warm and welcoming to a frown, his eyes narrowing to several hues darker. Only Anneliese felt that unusual change in the air about her mate, and went from looking at the Pole's face to his questioningly.

"T-this is my friend, Feliks Łukasiewicz," Toris said. "He's from Poland."

"Uh, what's up," Feliks tried to say humorously but failed.

"Feliks, huh?" Alex relaxed a little and tried to smile.

He said rather absently 'nice to meet you' and excused himself before he stalked through the crowd and left, his companion chasing after him. Their silhouettes mashed together easily with the other black bodies moving about in a jumbled unison. Two of the three left behind were obviously puzzled, but Feliks couldn't be read. Perhaps he was relieved the "stranger" had left?

"What's his problem?" Feliks asked sounding slightly offended.

"He must have been tired," Sebastian suggested. "Normally he is ecstatic to make new friends, but can't do so properly when he's sleepy."

_Alex didn't __**look**__ tired_, Toris thought to himself.

"Come, I'll take you home. It's late. Some of the other's curiosity has been quelled," Sebastian led the two back toward the entrance. Toris wondered what he meant by 'others.' "Unless you two wish to stay here."

"Ack!" The brunette jumped. "Rasa! She'll be hungry because I didn't leave her a bowl of dry cat food! I was running late this morning."

"A cat?" Sebastian grinned widely. "Oh my, wouldn't want to keep her waiting then."

The three all hurried out to the parking lot following Sebastian to a white van. The tall teen grabbed the keys out of his pocket and placed the key in the door. All three piled in and the vehicle started up on it's way out into the night lit not by the millions of stars and smiling moon, but the polluting light from the buildings that always made New York City glow like the crown jewel. It was the Kingdom of Night Lights. It was a short time before they were back at Toris' apartment and when he opened the door, he found his place a bit in disarray. All the lights were on and some stuff like clothes and other items were out of place.

"Oh dear," Sebastian said loudly.

"Sebastian, is that you?" Came a voice. "Help me out here, Bianca went a little crazy and messed up a lot of things."

A face peeked around the corner and stared at the three in the doorway. His brown eyes contrasted against his light blonde hair. He wore a casual light blue shirt and dark navy jeans. His shoes have been faded and a little worn from long use. The new stranger likely hadn't bought any new ones for himself. Toris had a hand on his face. He was extremely exhausted and just wanted to rest. Too many things were happening in one day.

"Oh hiya. I'm sorry about your place," the man just smiled looking a little guilty. "That girl is kind of crazy sometimes and messed up your stuff."

"H-how did you get into my apartment," Toris shouted, dumbfounded.

"Picked the lock," he replied. "I'm really good at it."

"Finni, why are you here?" Sebastian asked.

"Kind of a long story. Lets just say Bianca and I screwed up. Actually we were looking for him."

The guy named Finni pointed at Toris before a vicious yowl and sharp claws assaulted him. Rasa was defending her home and her victim let out a wail in surprise. Her long orange fur was flared up like fire as she hissed to frighten the invader. Toris hurried over and scooped up his upset feline off of him and kept tight hold, trying to sooth her by stroking her head. Rasa's yowls ceased to a low growl.

"I told you cats hate me," Finni said to Sebastian who had walked further into the room. "At least it wasn't like when all your cats were chasing me. They nipped at me so hard I thought I was going to be eaten alive"

"That was because Sam snuck catnip in your pocket," the Russian smiled. "You know Sam loves to play pranks on people. Especially me…"

"Ugh," he groaned and turned towards Toris. "A-anyway, I'm Finni. You probably noticed my accent. I'm from Finland."

"We call him Finni because we can never pronounce his actual name. It's _really_ long," Sebastian pointed out.

"Hey, what's this doohickey?"

Finni wrapped aged leather strings around his pointer finger and observed the object at the middle of it. It was a nice fairly flat-faced amber stone with intricate carvings on it. It was an emblem shaped like a wide shield with a crown upon it. The outward emboss design within the shield were four different sections and had the design of a crowned eagle looking creature and in a separate section, a knight on a horse who gloriously raised his sword. On the knight's shield had the Cross of Lorraine, which was a double cross. In the four sections, two of the same coats of arms were diagonal from one another a bit like a checkerboard. Toris jumped up when he realized what it was.

"T-that's m-my-"

"Hey! Don't like, touch that," Feliks blurted out, trying to squeeze past the Russian who was blocking the way. "That's a special necklace I gave to Toris to commemorate the Commonwealth back in 1620! Or was it 1635, I can never remember. Too long ago for my memory to know exactly when I-"

The blonde had not realize what he just said and kept on blabbering about when he gave the necklace to his partner of the Commonwealth back in the days. Finni and Sebastian just looked at Toris who sank down into the armchair. The two crouched down side to side in the corner whispering softly about what they had just heard. They peeked over their shoulders at the completely mortified Lithuanian with a wide smile before going back to their discussion. Toris knew they were either going to laugh at him and think it's a joke or actually believe it and tell it to the world. Only specific people were allowed to know. Eventually the two stood up and asked how old Toris was. The Lithuanian lied in reply saying he was nineteen. Physically he looked so, but he was much, much older in comparison. They wondered then what Feliks was going on about the necklace, and he replied that his friend was talking about nothing, but his response was rather weak, lacking confidence. They hesitated to press on since they knew they were making Toris feel very uncomfortable. The reason they were asking so much of the "young" man they knew little about was not straightforward 'just say why' sort of thing. Perhaps they began to notice that was his dilemma too if what they thought was true. Finni and Sebastian looked at one another before they started to confess that they weren't as old as they looked either.

Sebastian said he was born sometimes during the time of the Russian Empire around the year 1882. The caring, disciplined hands of his mother molded him to having a refined character while her wisdom in reasoning helped him learn. Of course, that didn't mean he never got in trouble. Many times he experimented to see what was okay with his mother, but after a while the child of many problems deceased. As time went on, he had witnessed the violence and blood spill of the Russian Revolution and the tragedies of the total war but managed to survive all the heartbreak and realized a prolonged or immortal life wasn't as great as any mundane person who knew, believed. He has been up and down on the road to finding out the purpose of his life extendedly stuck in a seventeen year old body. From a stage of excessive drinking and depression from the losses in wars to a sober good-humored fellow trying to keep his own spirit up, cats seemed to be his best of friends. Despite that their lifetimes were much shorter than the average lifespan for a human, any kitten or feline he found were his family after his mother had passed away. He seemed to understand things best when he thought it over with his cats. Who Sebastian's father was had not been revealed clearly, but the teen vaguely hinted that he knows who his father is and had actually met him before. Nothing more was said after that.

Finni was born in 1790 and was raised by a man who took him in after his mother died of an illness that today, isn't even close to fatal due to the creation of vaccinations. The man one of the kindest creatures you'd ever met, but had a serious drinking problem. For a time, Finni began to follow his example and drank in his "teen" years, first light and then in heavy quantities. He was scolded heavily for this but was not moved to quit drinking so carelessly until the man died. The adoptive father left all his possessions from his house to the surprisingly large amount of wealth he had saved (which explained why he seemed to be drinking less before his death), for Finni. It took a while for the young Finn to find out what he wanted to do with his life and when he realized that he did not seem to age past twenty physically, he sold the house and took all the money with him using only so much for himself. The rest went to helping others on the street with food and materials to keep them warm during the frost bitten winters. He taught himself tricks and illusions to amuse the eyes of those he helped, trying to keep broken spirits up. Like Sebastian, he has seen the dark shadows of war and the sharp slope that erupts when the people want change for something better. As for his father, he had an idea who his father was but never met him personally.

Toris was surprised to hear such stories come from the two young men before him and saw the figures change to childish, teen behaved people to one like an elderly grandparent reminiscing the past. Their eye's young shimmer grew old and soft and their way of speaking changed too. After a moment of silence, they looked expectantly at him and Finni's voice deepened to a more adult like tone when he spoke again.

"So now you know who we are," he said. "Who are you then?"

"I," Toris hesitated. "I don't know where to-"

"The Polish over there was mentioning a commonwealth back in 1600s," Sebastian stated. "You don't have to go into too much detail, start with your age. Just how old are you?"

The Lithuanian pondered on this question for a moment.

"Even older than you," he replied quietly. "Over seven centuries I have lived."

"Wow!" Sebastian's playful behavior returned. "You're older than we thought. You'd be in with some of the oldest in our group! What about you, Sunshine?"

"I have a name, you know," Feliks flared up a little. "I'm older than Toris even though I don't look like it. I've been alive since 966 A.D."

"It's a wonder you don't look physically older," Finni said in a good-humored tone.

"Definitely a good few centuries older than the Lithuanian," the Russian teen added. "In that case, I think you two should meet the others."

"O-others?" Toris stuttered.

"Yeah," Finni interjected. "There are lots of others. You can introduce yourself tomorrow. It's way late tonight."

Too tired to object, Toris just muttered a barely audible okay and the two youngsters (compared to him and Feliks) just turned to leave after telling him goodnight. He turned to ask Feliks if it was okay if he used the shower first, but the blonde was already face down on his bed. They both wanted desperately by now to sleep. Receiving no answer, the Lithuanian just stepped into the bathroom to briefly clean himself up from the day and dragged his feet to bed in his night clothes. To his surprise, Feliks had not fallen asleep and was waiting for his turn. Normally, Toris would have told his friend not to spend too much time in there because it was so late but he blacked out once his body landed on the bed. He was in heaven at last.

_Authors Notes: "Åh nej_" _= Swedish for "oh no." There are some tiny parts in Russian parts too, but it only means "yes." _Да _= yes. _

_ Not much to say about this chapter, but I wouldn't doubt there are a lot of mistakes. I tried to look it over best I can, but any grammar, mistakes or spelling errors, please do tell me so I can fix them. I will likely self edit this story again and fix some things. I feel I have rushed the ending of this chapter a bit._


	4. Shrouded Clear Day

"_Alexander Laurinsson, you get down from there this instant!" _

"_Mamma, I can see the Baltic Sea from here! I wonder what's out there." The huge body of water awed little Alex while he longed to see what waited on the other side. A tall man appeared at his mother's side in his side vision._

"_Alexander," his voice made the small child jump. "Listen to your mother." _

"_Yes Pappa." And Alex crawled down obediently, cautious not to slip._

_x.X.X.x_

_**August XX, 1798**_

_Sir Laurin is a stern father but considerate nonetheless. Obedience and maturity are his nurture traits that are effectively being passed on to__ Alexander. Inevitably, however, my son is a honey-sweet boy with high concerns of others. In a way, he works more based on emotion than practical thinking, but as he grows older, he struggles to find a balance in both worlds that satisfied both himself and the man I married. _

"_Alex" has grown so much in the past several years since I fled to Sweden thirteen years ago when he was a baby. It feels just moments ago he had been born, so little in my arms cuddled against my chest. I can only wish for the right moment to tell him the truth– But I fear __**losing**__ him will be the cost of such knowledge…_

_**- Lady E. Laurinsson**_

_x.X.X.x_

_**July XX, 1799**_

_I went on the suggestion of my Father to experience sailing out on a ship filled with trade goods. It wasn't anything special, just to help with the cargo. I was excited, but a little nervous too, being my first time seeing the other side of the Baltic Sea, into the Kingdom of Prussia._

_I heard that five years ago, there was a huge commonwealth that used to reside on the land I stood upon, but it was split apart and divided among Prussia, Austrian Monarchy or The Russian Empire. It was a pity to hear such a large territory become defeated from all sides. I can't wait to get home and tell Mamma about all the different things I've seen here in the Kingdom of Prussia, and the strange man with devil's skin red eyes, snow white hair who makes quite the ruckus out on the streets while his strange little yellow bird floats about his head like a cloud. I think he was drunk…_

_**-Aleksandras "Alexander" Laurinsson**_

_x.X.X.x_

_**July XX 1799**_

_Finally, we're going home! Now I know what Mamma meant when she said I would be missing her soon enough. I have only been away for ten days, but it feels like a century! Pappa was right when this would be good for me. _

_Oh! I almost forgot that today, I met this odd man who had hair like the brightest yellow wheat down to his shoulders and olive green eyes. He had mistaken me for someone else called "Liet." After I asked him what he meant, he ran off scared, hollering something in Polish I believe, but I didn't hear him correctly to translate. Oh, well…. _

_**-Aleksandras "Alexander" Laurinsson**_

_x.X.X.x_

_They came twice. Once when Alex was fourteen and then a year later. The first time, his father had been the one to answer the door. To Alex's confusion, his mother had shooed him away to a different room. Even though they were out of sight from the strangers, she shielded him within her arms. Her beautiful deep chocolate hair tickled his nose like this, but he didn't mind. They didn't come out until Pappa told them that the two men had left. Sir Laurin had not been home the second time, so Alex was the one who opened the door to the foreigners looming at the doorway. The two men yapped on about what sounded like nonsense to him. Some talk about that they knew who Alex really was, and not in a polite manner. When Alex denied them again, they tried to pin him down and "arrest him." His mother at the time showed considerable courage and strength by launching her fist into one of the men's faces. Neighbors nearby heard the yowl his mother received from the man and came over to see what was happening. The other Swedes did not believe the foreigner's story about what business they were on and threatened to contact authority if they did not leave. Defeated, the men left, one with a leaky red broken nose. Alex contemplated on what the two men had gone on about. He shook his head thinking they were crazy, but a small stab of doubt stung his heart. The confused dark haired teen would ask his mother later, anyway._

_x.X.X.x_

"_Sir Laurin is not your father," his mother confessed quietly. "I married him to protect your identity." _

"_From what?" He whipped around, facing his mother with cobalt eyes colder than iron bars in Siberian winter, flared with hate and confusion. Alex had never been so angry with his mother, but she had lied to him about his father. What else has she kept from him? She shot back an equally concrete cerulean expression, lips pressed to a thin line. Whether she did not have an answer or couldn't tell him, he stormed out of the house with an inconsolable air about him choking on silent tears. His mother remained where she was, bitterly resisting the urge to crumble. _

_Out on his own, he used his anger to influence his ability to walk for who knows how far. A friend who was on his way home caught sight of him, but Alex ignored him. Finally he sat down near a small river, his legs brought up against his chest to protect himself from the chill in the night. Even the leaves were stiff and shivered from the cold air. The upset young Swede rested his chin on his knees staring off across the way to nowhere in particular. He was too sad to think about anything and could only wonder:_

"_Who am I?"_

x.X.X.x

Alex strolled down the empty outskirts of New York City alone early the next morning. He always takes an early walk just as the sun is yawning the first light of day to get his mind thinking about what needed to be done. Anneliese would be preparing to teach her history class on Monday. While she chose to temporarily be a teacher at Baruch College Campus High School, Alex taught afternoon dance classes for various types of dance. Mainly swing dance like Lady Hop, then breakdancing/hip-hop and some ballroom dances. Since the roaring twenties, he found that he enjoyed dancing as a way of expressing oneself. He practiced with a multitude of different woman, some shorter and some about his height, but no matter whom he danced with, something was off. Though many were gallant dancers, he couldn't stay with them– because he never aged. Of course, they didn't know that. A lot of people he has ever met didn't.

He pondered on when he first met Anneliese. Though it was many years ago, he would always be thankful. She gave him back his life that otherwise would have been lost forever. Anneliese was young lady from Germany with quite the character and much like her father. Alex had met him only once his whole time of knowing her since he was often very busy. His name was Ludwig. He was a tall, robust gentleman with neatly combed back blonde hair and bright sky blue eyes. A strict man and not much one to bend the rules, and loved to keep his spaces clean and tidy. If he yelled at you for anything though, its only because he cares– and it's better to get a straight answer than to get one that turns to mumbling and a waste of time. For someone seemingly so thick skinned, Ludwig had a tender spot for his daughter, giving an affectionate smile discussing about how proud he is of her. Alex sighed with envy, but rid his mind of it immediately, remembering that he knew many others who were like him. For some, it was their mother they never knew. It was weird how it worked out that way because…

Alex shook his head. He really had too much time on his hands to be thinking about a gazillion subjects. He knew he was going to far when he began to lose touch with reality and be walking off into places he shouldn't or didn't mean to wander. Once he had almost walked into active traffic, oblivious to his surroundings.

_Sam's place is where I'm headed. Don't be a pea-brain and forget that much_, he told himself and picked up his pace.

x.X.X.x

The brunette was somewhat hoping last night was all a dream when he woke up at seven, but was proven wrong when he found Finni at the door. His friend just refused to wake up all together. The Finn was given the duty to bring Toris and Feliks to Samuel's hangout block to introduce him to the "others" Sebastian mentioned last night. A brief breakfast of coffee, toast and an egg, and the three were on their way. It didn't take them long to arrive. The place was entirely reorganized from what it had been the night before. It was open to the bright morning sky and there were numerous tables speckling the place with fancy, inexpensive chairs to fit beneath them. About fifty or more people of all ages from teens to mid thirties were lounging about speaking with their friends or texting alone on their cell phone. The familiar scent of coffee and brunch foods skipped along in the clear space. Eyes wandered some more and spotted a strange symbol painted huge and bold across the way on the wall. Toris remembered vaguely seeing it the night before when a light occasionally flashed that way, but it was so dark, one couldn't be sure what it was. He brought out his emergency mini notepad and sketched it.

"Everyone, this is Toris," Finni announced to the large number who were chatting to one another; they quieted down and all eyes fell on him. "He's just like us. So is his friend uh, Felo, Feli, Fabio?"

"Feliks," the blonde yawned.

"Right. Why don't we introduce ourselves," the Finn went on.

A moment of silence filled the room. Toris took a step back feeling like an outsider and looked around nervously. Before the shy Lithuanian could say to his yawning companion, loud clacks of shoes interrupted their thoughts as a girl with silky, coiled reddish brown hair stood upon one of the tables. Her feet moved again in a fashion too fast for the naked eye to follow in a short series of taps. It almost looked as if her feet never touched the table and a small smile made its way across her lips amused by the look on the his face.

"I am Leah. I'm from Ireland," she spoke loud and clear. The guy sitting next to her stood up next.

"I am Daniel. I am from Scotland," he said.

Another in the room off to the far right popped up from their place. A girl.

"I am Felicia, I am from Italia," the bubbly girl shouted. "And this is my cousin, Bianca. She's also from there!"

"No, _really_?" Bianca said sarcastically rolling her eyes, hunched like an ill-tempered gargoyle in her seat.

"Jacques. France," a handsome older gentleman rose his hand. "And this is my love and lover, Olivia."

"England," Olivia said quietly.

"We're from America." A sunshine shorthaired boy and medium, rusty brown haired girl, both with glasses stood side to side.

_That must be Samuel and Marlene_, Toris thought.

"Of course, you know I'm from Russia. It is obvious, да?"

"Alejandro, Spain."

"Hungary!"

"Egypt."

"Austria."

"China!"

"Portugal!"

A wide range of accents all rang out into the clearing as the list went on. It was overwhelming since it sounded like there was at least one from each country around the world. Most were from Europe or Asia. What puzzled Toris the most was why so many different people were gathered in one place, but he would ask later. Right now he was trying to remember a multitude of names as they called out to him, but it was impossible. Another name would worm its way to his ears before he could memorize the last one. Soon all the noise settled down and the room became quiet. Toris assumed that it was his turn and shifted awkwardly in his place, blushing a little.

"I-I'm Toris," he started. "I am from uh, Lithuania."

"Welcome, Toris," they responded in near perfect unison. It made him shudder a little.

"Yeah, whatever," Bianca occupied herself with her fork on the table.

"Huh? Is it like, my turn now?" The Pole snapped out of his morning drag. "Uh, I'm Feliks and I'm from Poland."

_That was more fearless than you've ever bothered to be before_, his brown haired friend thought.

Bianca said nothing this time, but she did give an interested look at Feliks before looking away with bore in her eyes. Her cousin seemed to notice this about her and whispered in a tongue Toris couldn't understand. Probably Italian. She was too far away to read anyway.

"Where is Alex?"

All eyes fell on Feliks, even Toris looked at him but with a more surprised expression. He had actually remembered the young man's name? Not to be negative, but it would normally take a few times of hearing one's name before the blonde could remember unless he was seriously interested or had to. Feliks glanced around like he had done something wrong.

"What?" He responded to their silence.

"He's not here yet," it was Olivia who replied. "It varies upon the day when he gets here–"

"Are you guys talking bad about me already?" A familiar voice teased. It was Alex.

x.X.X.x

_He slowly wandered home, mind still numb from what his mother had told him earlier. It was darker than black out with only the moon and stars to light the way home. Alex was greeted by nothing but silence most of the way until he bothered to look up. He wanted to holler at the heavens when he noticed something odd. An abnormal shape in the sky cloaked a section of the sky, blinding the shining mysterious eyes with black. He followed it down towards the source where it was dipped in a faint blood red and hungry orange. It dawned on the detached teen what it was and he let out a small breath of alarm. It was fire– and it was coming from about where the estate was. Quicker than the nimblest steed, Alex bolted off toward home in the general direction of the fire, praying it was not his home set ablaze, but as he drew closer any hopes were swiftly vanishing. He thought of the men who had came a month ago and a half ago. What if they came back? Everything had been so normal after that, the event was forgotten. _

_ "Mamma!" He repeatedly crowed over and over, leaping over the small stone border. _

_ Oh why did he have to leave her alone?_

**x.X.X.x**

_Author's Note: A chapter that reveals some back-story on more major characters like Alex and Anneliese. The parts in italics are flashbacks or "diary/journal" entries. Chapter five will be like this chapter and take me a while to complete it since it is also missing a lot of parts. Anyway, this part probably needs lots of editing, but I will edit it tomorrow. I am exhausted right now and cannot read anything in front of me very well. _

_Swedish Translate:_

"_Pappa" = Father_

"_Mamma" = Mother_

_I also fixed the mistake where I failed to remember what day it was. Anneliese would NOT be teaching classes on Saturday, what was I thinking? *slaps self*_


	5. It Goes A Little Like This

All eyes turned towards the voice to see Alex just making his way in. The dark chocolate haired young man was greeted by simple hellos and nods by a few of the others. Toris observed him more carefully now that it wasn't like a dark nightclub, and noticed his hair hung freely this time. He wore nothing that made him stand out, just a thin dull blue jacket that had not so optimistic yellow lines along the zipper and across the front shoulders. Underneath was simply a white t-shirt. Snug around his neck was a small scarf in a sort of European style with a triangle of fabric hanging below his chin. The pants were typical jeans that were not to dark and not bleached, but they did have some tear in the knees and worn bottoms with some threads hanging loosely. Toris supposed it was to not draw too much attention. Feliks, along side him, was looking more or less uninterested with a hint of dislike in his expression.

"You're a little late," Olivia said. "Deep in the thought process again, Alex?"

"Well I did get a little distracted," Alex replied with a hearty laugh. "And I see we have guests from last night."

"Brought 'em in this morning," Finni said. "You won't believe it, Alex, but these two are just like us! I thought I could introduce them to the rest of us."

When Alex smiled warmly at them, it made Toris shudder a little. How could he completely space out, not thinking beforehand that Alex would be like them. Of course he would be! One of the girls from Italy went up to him whispering into his ear. Alex listened with interest before she bounced happily off. He then began walking towards Toris and Feliks to have a proper discussion with them to make up for last night. Alex mumbled something before fully facing Toris.

"I'm sorry about last night, I wasn't feeling my best. It was rude of me to leave like that."

"Ah, it's not a problem. Feliks?"

The blonde stared at Alex for a moment.

"Yeah, whatever," he shrugged. "It's totally cool."

Toris marveled at Alex who offered his fist and when Feliks hesitantly returned it by lifting his own and connecting before a strange swift assortment of hand motions were created by both hands. For once the atmosphere between the two seemed to lighten, since there was an unusual awkwardness that hadn't changed much since last night.

"So, have you two been around our little neighborhood?"

"No, we actually got here not too long before you did," Toris said.

"Then let me show you around, tell you a little more about our mini-community, if you can call it that," Alex offered. "Just let me get back to Felicia about what she came to me for and I'll be right with you. I'll meet you by the back door."

Alex shook his hand and went over to the two Italian cousins. For once Bianca didn't seem ticked off and at least a little more humble. A girl of cynical thinking perhaps judging from the sarcastic facial expressions she made. Not wanting to appear like he was eavesdropping, Toris turned towards his friend who had disappeared on him. He looked around anxiously for his Polish friend, but he was nowhere to in sight and began to panic. Why did Feliks always have to wander off on him? The poor brunette tried calling his name without actually yelling, but there was no response. Toris wandered around a little looking every which way, a little shy to ask anyone of they had seen where Feliks had gone. They seemed too busy to have noticed anyway. While searching in the fairly open area, Toris bumped into someone who let out a startling yelp. He just began to apologize when he let out a small sound of surprise himself. The person he had ran into appeared to be a young woman with long pale blonde hair, but what had startled Toris about her appearance were the bandages that covered the right side of her face like she had been brutally attacked. He realized he didn't see her earlier this morning when he was introducing himself. Her steel blue eyes were brittle with fear and she took a step back. Although this girl was the same height as Toris, her hunkering and skittish behavior created a small appearance on her image. Before he could do anything, she turned tail and scrambled away.

"Hey, w-wait!" Toris was afraid he had offended her by staring at her bandages, but there was no point in going after her, so instead he continued guiltily on to the back door area.

There was a large door that could roll up next to the doorway, but for now it was closed while a couple teens leaned on it, chatting and occasionally hitting the door, making it rattle noisily. When Toris opened the door, a new neighborhood of buildings boomed out towards him under the bright sunlight. He could see some people moving around in them, and some parts were even windowless. Something was different about these set of buildings however. Even though it was obviously occupied, it seemed unfinished or a bit of an abandoned feel to it. To his left against the corner, near the doorway was Feliks. He had been waiting here the whole time!

"You were out here?"

"Alex told us to like, wait near the back door," said Feliks.

"You could have waited up," Toris frowned. "You left without telling me."

"Sorry, it's just that I was like totally getting a bit nervous surrounded by all those people."

"It's not so bad," Toris tried to reassure Feliks and himself. "It's not like they're going to force us to stay here or anything."

He let out a nervous laugh, but noticed Feliks looked a bit troubled and not because strangers make him shy.

"Is something wrong?" Toris began to worry. "Hey, if you don't want to stay here, we can leave. I'm sure Alex would understand."

"No, it's nothing," Feliks lied.

The two waited patiently for Alex to meet back up with them, and sure enough there he was just a few moments later. He pulled something out of his pocket and flipped open face. Toris' eyes became locked onto the object and saw Alex was checking the time. The way the metallic smooth face reflected the light triggered something in the Lithuanian. Toris felt himself almost gravitate towards it even though his body was stiff and unmoving. Alex caught him staring and put it away. It snapped shut and pulled Toris out of his daze. He blinked a bit confused. In the clearing came a small ringing sound, like an alarm of sorts. Trailing after were other small sounds mixed together to form a sort of musical tune, gradually becoming bolder and louder.

"Shall we?" Alex asked. He began to lead the way down the street, ignoring the spontaneous collection sounds.

Soon many faces were popping out of the windows, chimneys, practically everywhere echoing to each other something that sounded like "yup, yup" in a cheery singsong style before all jumping down on the dumpsters, or piles of flat plywood, anything that made a booming thump as they landed. Some began to beat against the metal trashcans or plastic bins _boom boom, da boom_. Others battered against the corner of the brick walls or metal poles, _ting ting tink taunk! _The streets changed from a serene, quiet avenue to a rambunctious musical set. Paintbrushes soaked with color leaked onto the streets or were splattered upon the walls and they began to sing in the lively area.

Toris stayed close behind Alex in fear of bumping into one of the many dancing up and down the sidewalk, taking curious glances as he went. From what he could see besides the joyous singing of many nationalities was that this area was being renovated perhaps. With the various outfits being worn from a carpenter to a designer, and seeing through some of the large windows to spy on newly made or partially finished walls gave a good hint. They twirled and marched up and down the streets singing their song of unity and all the things they loved to do like painting pictures with the swipe of a brush, sambaing down the alleyway or just laughing with a friend.

"You already know that the various people here are from various nations, and noticed there is at least one from each," Alex started. "So far we've found them mainly in the Americas, Europe, three from Asia and a couple from Africa. I will tell you, that there are some people here who are just regular people, but only the closest of friends who know the secret about us. For an example, Samuel has his group of 'homies.' There's one of them over there."

Up the street a ways was a big man, African American, who began to groove it down the street rapping as he went. It was quite catchy, and old school. All the others watched him join in, giving him his moment of fame. Every now and then afterwards, blurting a few lines here and there. To Toris, he seemed a little crazy– in a good way. Optimistically wild in character, the man was with a huge smile and a hearty laugh.

"Maybe later, you an meet a friend of mine. He's a good kid. Anyway, we actually have a name for our traveling community. We often say C17 for short, but the full name is 'Circumforaneous 17.' Olivia of Britain came up with that, but it's hard for a lot of us to remember how to say it."

"Circumfornous," Toris tried to say it, but it wasn't working. He's never heard of it. "What is circum-for-an…?"

"It means basically 'to travel abroad or wander from place to place,' Alex explained. "A fitting name since we often travel to various countries. The neat thing is that the design of the abbreviation looks like the Euro symbol, and since it was, at the time only some of us from Europe, who decided to create C17, it is also fitting. It's inside, in case you wondered what it was on the wall."

So _that's_ what that was painted on the wall.

"All of you travel?" Toris gestured curiously with his eyes to those around him. "There must be more than sixty of you here! How do you afford it?"

"We have our ways. Quite a few of us have a mother or father who owns a large business or many businesses and get some money from that, and many of us are like me; a regular person with no extraordinary or luxurious lifestyle and have to fend for himself. In that case, we obviously work jobs to earn our way, but we help each other out too. Every trip or place we go to don't require every member to be here if they do not desire or cannot be there for financial reasons, so it is truly optional. We just thought it would have been nice to have some way to know that each of us individually are not the only ones in the world. That was the loneliness of growing up and living, believing or thinking we were the only ones. To have a friend or family with no fear of them passing long before us gives a feeling of security and drives away depression. As you can see here, however, we are renovating this place, 40 people strong. It took a lot to convince the landlords and mayor but they got the job and being paid for it is one way of having money, and it also gives the whole neighborhood to us to do whatever we like."

"That makes sense," Toris looked at Feliks. His friend returned the look. "I think we get that way too sometimes, even though we know we exist, but we can't always hang out together when we want. Life keeps us busy all the time, and it's stressful too. Feliks and I have heavy responsibilities to our homelands. Not as much freedom as you guys seem to have."

"I see," Alex said thoughtfully. "So what are you two doing here then, so far away from home?"

"Every once in a while, our bosses let us have a short break. It's nice, I guess. Gives us some time to think things over and refresh ourselves. Be a little more normal, I guess you could put it. It isn't a vacation like a lot of people would think. I still work a full time job."

The Swede smiled at Toris, nodding his head. Feliks continued to stay quiet throughout this entire time. Alex had made little eye contact with him too.

"What about yourself, Alex," Toris asked. "What's your story?"

"It's a very long story."

"Might as well kill some time."

"Then we might as well head towards my home," Alex replied. "It's not too far, but far enough for me to tell a general story of myself."

"What about the others," Feliks asked.

"Ah, they don't need me. I'm sure Olivia won't kill me for leaving."

Feliks finally gave a groan of protest of walking, but Toris nudged him. With that, Alex one again led the way from the now quiet, but lively street. He was careful which path they took. Noon was soon approaching, and that meant heavy crowds on the sidewalks of New York. If they had to pass through crowds, he paused his story until they were set to listen again.

"I was born sometime in early August, 1785 so I am 226 years old. I was born in Lithuania, but when I was still a baby, my mother moved to Sweden. I grew up with a fairly happy childhood with my mother, and the man who acted as a father to me. Life was secure until about my mid teenage years. I found out more about myself and that my father wasn't really my father. One event caused me to become separated from my mother for a year, and she passed away a month after I had found her again. I never heard from my 'father' after the separation. I was sixteen at the time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," sympathized Toris. Something sounded off from Alex's story, but was too intrigued by his story to bother at the time.

"I lived in Sweden until about the 1900s, when I immigrated to the United States of America along with many others. New York City was where I decided to stay instead of going to other common cities for immigrants like Chicago, Illinois. I faced the poor housing, harsh winters, cruel work conditions, joined the Union on their marches, nearly crushed in the riots, and saved by an angel. I first met Anneliese, my girl from Germany, in 1917. She was the angel who rescued me one deathly winter night. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. We were only friends at the time for a few years, and then she returned to Germany to support her father after World War I had ended. Anneliese and I didn't get together until about ten years after World War II. That was when I finally found her again."

"How?"

"Went searching in Germany," Alex recalled. "When I first met her, I didn't know she was like me and that's why I took no interest in her, despite that I liked her a lot. Anneliese was likely the same, unable to take interest in me even if she wanted because what if I had been just a normal human being? It would be pointless– but when we met each other again during the last few years of World War II, seeing neither of us had aged a day, I think we both felt the ground beneath us tip sideways in disbelief.

"So, I had searched everywhere in Germany for her, and even had learned some German at the time to get around. I didn't know what city or town she lived in or what street, but I just had to find her. I tried the city of Efurt, Nuremberg, then the capital of East Germany, Berlin, and the capital of West Germany, Bonn. Any place that seemed likely, seeking help from people around me with an old photograph I had of her from 1917. As luck would have it, I found her. You should have seen the look on her face."

"I bet she was shocked to see you," guessed Toris.

"No. She actually she was very calm about it, but I almost walked past her because she looked a little older, somehow. It was probably from the exhaustion of the war. Anneliese was sitting in her yard, just reading a novel. When she noticed me looking at her, I thought I had frightened her. I had not meant to stare so long. She just got up, went into the house calling to her father. Not long after, Anneliese calmly came outside and we took a walk together. Not much to say after that, except the obvious."

"Wow, it sounds like you've done alright," Toris' compliment received a thankful look from Alex. "Um, may I ask you something? I know it's kind of off subject but-"

"Sure."

"Back at the place, I ran into this girl who wore bandages on her face, and well I don't mean to sound like I'm being offensive or anything…"

"Very light blonde hair, and steel blue eyes," said Alex. "Yeah, I know who you're talking about. Her name is Wyktoria. Like your friend, she's from Poland. She is very shy and jumpy to even people she knows. Anytime she talks, if at all, she's very quiet about it. You're probably wondering why Wyktoria wears those bandages on her face; she has some on her left arm and hand."

Toris nodded.

"We all know about the hardships the country of Poland had faced during World War II, so knowing that and the fact that she is from Poland, one would figure why she is so skittish. Wyktoria is scarred physically and mentally from the horrors she has witnessed and the experience she had gone through. The poor girl is mentally insecure and it causes her to fear everyone around her."

"O-oh," Toris felt a wave of guilt overwhelm him. He didn't mean to ask a question that had such a reason. He had witnessed some of the horrible things that had been done to the Polish people, and never ever talked about it around Feliks. The Polish man knew the Holocaust all too well and never liked anyone mentioning it, but Alex had been subtle about avoiding any direct mentioning of it.

"But she is recovering," Alex lightened up. "There is just one person among everyone else in the world she trusts most, and because of him, Wyktoria is slowly, but surely getting better."

It delivered a sense of relief to the guilty feeling Lithuanian to hear that. There wasn't much to say on more recent history that Alex had to say about himself, but he had the timing right when the stories had stopped, for they were indeed in front of what appeared to be a set of apartments, only fancier. Up a flight of stairs into the building and down a hall, they halted at one of the few doorways on the same level. Inside the doorway was a fair conjoined area of a kitchen and living room. The colors were ambient and earthy, while the counter and bar was white. The walls were only modestly decorated with paintings, none of which were overpoweringly bright with color. Some were photographs in smaller frames sitting on the table near the couch. Off to the right were a small hallway and doorways. One was wider and had double sliding doors. Likely was the closet. Lights extended from the ceiling before the small dinning table or eyed the bar from their round lookouts above. Everything in this place looked spotless and clean.

While Toris was getting a good look around the place from where he stood, he felt something tugging at his sleeve. He looked at Feliks who had the weirdest look on his face. To Toris, that could only mean one thing.

"Toris, I like really need to go," whined Feliks.

"You can use the bathroom, it's just down at the end of the hallway," Alex pointed the way.

Toris decided to lead the way for Feliks so he doesn't get lost. Not that this place was big enough to, but the blonde has gotten confused before in a small area. The bathroom door was wide open, and obviously vacant. Feliks hurried inside and slammed the door shut. Toris cringed from how loud it sounded, and slowly began to walk back to the main area. Before he hit the light of the kitchen, he saw a door that was open a little. This door was worn and older looking than the rest of them, neglected to get repainted. A wall of black lurked behind it and Toris could see nothing. The angle was awkward too, disabling any chances to truly see behind it. Within the blind blackness, an eerie air softly exhaled from within and he heard something play. It sounded like a music box, only a little broken or aged. It seemed to echo a little in the dark room that could not be seen, and Toris leaned in a little to see if he could hear it better. He even dared to push the door open just a little more and at that, the music stopped immediately and so did he.

"So Toris, how long are you staying here in America," Alex's loud voice made Toris jump. Immediately he stood up straight and left the aged doorway.

"I might go back home within the next year or so," he replied a little unevenly. Alex really had startled him, suddenly speaking as loudly as he had. "What about you? Have you ever made plans to return to Sweden?"

"I've thought about it for a long time. I've visited there plenty of times just to see how much it's changed."

Alex reached his hand into a pocket.

"Come here, I have something to show you. I figure since you look so interested earlier, I might as well."

Hung on a gold clad chain was the watch he had pulled out earlier. Even under the cozy amber light of the dinning table, it still shone with the same brilliance it had in the sunlight. Once more, it attracted Toris' interest and he became very curious of it. Now that he had a better view of it, he tried to think why this pocket watch alone had the power to draw his attention the way it did. He has never seen it before, nor has he ever cared too much for pocket watches. Alex offered for Toris to hold it himself to feel the peculiar texture along the skin of it. With the upmost care, Toris cupped his hands gently around it and felt a jolt run through his nerves. The brass watch felt warm and felt alive to him somehow, or maybe that was just the pumping of blood through his slightly trembling hands that he felt. Still, the item was a complete stranger to him, and yet felt so right for him to be in temporary possession of it. The outside was fairly plain with just a simple wide embossed ring around the outside. There were lines and circular designs poking up and snaking its way around from the flatted area in somewhat of a semi-celtic style, but not nearly as fascinating. The center was a simple, tiny symbol. It was the Lorraine Cross. Aging was apparent since some of the outside had tarnished with a scratch along the far side of the face.

"Vilnius."

Toris blinked.

"What?"

"The watch," Alex draped his jacket on his chair. "Vilnius is etched on the back. I assume that's where it was made. I used to think it was its name."

"It's beautiful," Toris observed the backside. "It looks very old."

"I suppose it is," the other sat down next to Toris. "I don't really know anything about it apart from that my mother found it wrapped in the blanket I was kept when she moved. She believed it was a gift from my Father. Er… biological father I mean. I've never let it out of my sight."

"Really," green eyes glinted in admiration. "Never?"

"Never. Ever since I was a boy, I made sure to take good care of it." Something glimmered darkly in light blue eyes. For a moment, he stared down the hallway where Feliks had gone probably wondering what was taking him so long.

"I see."

Toris looked away shyly. Alex glanced at him curiously.

"Is something wrong?"

"Never mind," Toris mumbled.

"Really, I don't mind," a charming smile drew itself on Alex's face. "Fire away."

"Err," he thought for a moment, glancing up to meet bright cerulean irises. He felt slightly intimidated by those kind eyes. "W-why don't you ever let it out of your sight?"

"It was the closest thing I ever had to him," fingers picked the watch from the other's hand. "I never got to meet him after all. Not in any time I where I could actually remember what he looked like. Here, have a look at the inside."

The delicately designed watched flipped open to reveal its treasure within. Toris jaw just about fell off when the clock face beamed proudly at him. A hair thin pointer winked lazily at him as it stepped past the roman numbers clad in slick silver. The hour hand was shaped like a tall crown, the bottom forming into a loose heart shape with three diamond shaped outlines through the middle, the third sitting where the wide curved lines met on top. From the tip of the third diamond outline was a towering little shape that came to a narrow point. The minute hand was more slender taller than it's sister hand. It consisted of hollow oval shapes standing atop another with the tip shaped like a long arrowhead. The background was a shiny carving of a woman holding a cross with her left arm held out, holding a tiny golden object. It was an image very similar to the statue above the Vilnius Cathedral back in Lithuania. A ring framed this image and revealed some of the gears behind the face.

Toris literally couldn't make a comment. He wanted so much to say something, but he was amazed at the delicate handiwork and effort that must have been put into this small working piece. Alex was glad that he was enjoying it so much. When the sounds of footsteps walking down the hall were heard, however, he made a swift movement and suspiciously hid the watch away. Feliks was done using the bathroom. The fair-haired man looked at him, and Alex just looked back.

"Finally finished," Alex joked. "I've never met anyone who takes that long in there before."

"Yeah, whatever," Feliks replied. "I bet that American kid takes longer than I do."

All joking aside, Toris sat up and thanked Alex for showing them around. He had other things to do, but would love to get together again maybe tomorrow and chat some more. Alex replied saying he would like that, so they could be better acquaintance. He had some question that he felt Toris could answer. Feliks moved lazily through the kitchen to stand next to his friend, before leaving. The Swede waved goodbye and went to start on dinner. It was only just before one in the afternoon, but Alex thought of some marinated chicken. It would soak in the dark, oily marinade for the next several hours. Anneliese would be home soon, too and would probably enjoy a snack, so he would prepare that too.

Alex reached over to the wooden holder that held the various knives for cutting unwanted fat off the chicken and noticed one of the smaller ones were missing. Mystified, he searched around the sink and in the dishwasher (he never puts it in there anyway, he always hand-washes them). Still he couldn't find that one missing knife. The holder looked so awkward without it, and Anneliese was bound to notice it was missing (the set was a gift from her father). Alex grimaced and glanced at the entranceway of his home in disappointment.

x.x.X.X.x.x

_Author's Notes: Finally! Chapter 5 is done! Yeah, I know there are probably a lot of mistakes, but hey, I really wanted to get this up and over with. I will look it over and fix any errors there are, and any that you spot, please tell me! _

_Things are getting stranger! Hopefully I'm not going off into too many places. Also, "Wyktoria" is the Polish variation of Victoria. I just loved the way it was spelled, I couldn't resist. She will however remain a minor character throughout most of the story. _


	6. Keep Calm and Writhe On

Chapter 6

Keep Calm and Writhe On

A wall of heat licked across Alex' face intensely from the towering flames which devoured the home. It seemed to grow angrier as he came closer, becoming too much to bear, but he was too focused on finding his mother. The anger from feeling betrayed to have being told the truth of secrets his mother had kept from him were outweighed replaced by fear. The entire night was lit ablaze by the heinous light of the fire. Building crackled under its wild claws, and jaws snapping apart the wood stronghold. In the distance, many shouts came from the black neighborhood. The nearby people and neighbors were flocking out, alarmed by the fire as well and came rushing to help keep it from possibly spreading and to put it out if they could.

"Water, water," they yelled to one another. Alex didn't spare them a thought, not even responding when he name was called.

He slammed open the front door with his shoulder. The wood around the metal hinges crumbled easily and the door flew into the burning home without much resistance. It felt like the doorway to the lowest pit of hell as built up temperatures poured from within the belly of the beast. Plumes of thick smoke flooded his lungs, causing him to cough. His face felt seared and cold hot as he scanned the common area of the house. She was nowhere to be seen and no sound could compare to the purring of the flames. Before he could even carry out the thought of entering the home in case his mother was trapped somewhere, the floor of the upstairs collapsed, spewing hot sparks into his face. Alex was forced to retreat, coughing and shielding his face. While retreating to the sanctuary of the cool air, he became aware of the terrified whinnies coming from the stall. After clenching his eyes free of the bitter smoke, he turned to see the nearby stable was also on fire.

Alex became aware of the horse still in her stall and turned his attention to freeing the frightened animal. A revered creature with steadfast speed, the horse was a dear friend to the young Swede since he was little. A gentle one on four powerful legs, she had been one to listen to many of his stories while she grazed peacefully in the fence bordered little field. It shared a near equal status as his mother did as a meaningful figure in his life. Alex couldn't let her perish too, not knowing if his mother already had. The little barn hadn't caught alight like the house had, but the flames were growing just as rapidly. Chickens were wide-awake and hollering as they too sensed the danger. Grabbing the handles, Alex forced open the door and pushed pass the three startled birds that ran outside. He unlocked the stall in which the old horse moved around anxiously and lead her away from the incinerating flames.

Just then, someone came behind Alex and knocked the stars clear from his vision. There was so much noise in the background of the nearby neighbors watching the settlement burn in horror, but none of them would be fast enough to catch the terrifying men draped in the shadows that were dragging the young Alex away. What did they want? Who were they..? Where was….

"Mother," he mumbled through his blurry vision and pounding head.

The next thing Alex would remember is that he is still held captive in some strange place. His wrists were still tied thoroughly and painfully. They bleed a little between the nasty thick fibers. The two men were still there keeping an eye on him. Alex finally gained enough strength to look around and spots a few other individuals in the same room. A few had gorgeous tan to dark cocoa skin. One had starry freckles across her face. Only one or two had the same light skin as Alex himself. Alex realizes they were tied up like hens meant for slaughter, or horses being sent to the field for an agonizing day of plowing the man's wealth. They were now property of slave owners.


	7. The Snake That Walks

Chapter 7

The Snake That Walked

Olive eyes twitched in annoyance as he with fair hair wandered about his apartment. He knocked out of the way a few objects that were lying on the floor, and continued circling around back to where he was before. The room was dim with only a few lamps on the little tables to give any light. Decent heat fluttered around in the atmosphere, being pushed around by the motions of the contemplating man. He looked upset on the outside, but was actually calm on the inside. He wanted to make sure he could get his revenge. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't found out. He wanted–

"What are you like, doing," said a voice from the other side of the room.

"Feliks," he hissed.

"Ugh, you are such a total bust, Emile," Feliks stated. "Keep frowning like that, and you'll totally get wrinkles. What's with all this like, revenge n stuff you keep talking about?"

"It's all his fault," Emile muttered angrily. "Because of him, I lost the most important thing to me."

"Who?"

"Alex," he slammed his hands on the table. "Ever since that day, I thought of nothing but paying the sunovabitch back for what he has done."

"Wow, such a drama queen," Feliks flipped back his hair. "Makes it even stupider that I'm stuck with you. I'm not interested in silly pranks."

Emile shot a look of infuriation and poisonous contempt at the other before giving an innocent little smile before moving over to the couch and sat down. Feliks' frown deepened. The little shine in the Emile's face was so fake it was sickening. For a moment, they didn't speak to each other Feliks glanced away lost on how to react. He sighed loudly and circled around. Not that he could wander that far. The two beings were no more separated than a couple of random people chained together. Now it was a struggle for dominance, but it didn't used to be. Emile was dormant somewhere in the voids of the mind, waiting for his chance to strike like a deadly cobra.

"So what are you going to do?" Feliks murmured.

Emile just snorted.

"What do you think? I'm going to _kill_ him, of course."

x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X

Another day meant more chores or something that would keep the poor Lithuanian busy. Not only does Feliks often call Toris to come up with plans, sometimes inviting himself to lunch or dinner, but also life itself happens. Only certain days, can he catch a break and just stop for a moment and enjoy the scenery of the children playing near the erected stone fountains or the adults aloof of their daily troubles. Families would even gather and enjoy lunch together on a heated day. The birds were of good company, and Toris occasionally fed them with an admiration for their natural beauty or colorful feathers. He once saw a family of swans in the waters of Central Park. One of the large immaculately white creatures wandered on land for some of the stray crumbs he had tossed for the ducks. The mother remained wary of him, naturally, while the young bobbed about in the water nearby. Now out of the water and waddling easefully on land, the swan that wandered from it's watery home seemed even bigger. It picked around and jabbed into the grass for any pieces of bread or feed left before raising it's delicately shaped head up at Toris. Its neck was slender, and lengthy. The waterproof feathers that flowed along it were smooth and in no way were bent or fluff.

Toris had a little bit of bread left and surrendered it to the snowy bird. Gradually the swan bent its neck and bowed its head to eat. It here that Toris had one of those moments where he would set down on one knee and talk to whichever creature was of current company. It would be about small things, really, or perhaps how silly an event that occurred was. He couldn't help it. It's just that the swan appeared to have a look to Toris that he was here to listen to all his worries, hopes and dreams, even if it couldn't understand. So he talked to animals– at least not all the time, anyway. No one seemed to notice him doing this, thankfully, for they would likely think of him as a strange foreign man, talking to a bird like it's human. Eventually, the masked bird would turn its interest elsewhere and return to his family in the pond. Toris would take his leave as well and come back another time.

For now, he was wandering through the unsurprisingly busy streets of New York City, seeking out a store to buy a few new business shirts. Some of the ones he had were getting a bit old and worn. Feliks had decided to join him, probably wanting to see if there was any cute clothing's he didn't have. Oddly, Toris noticed his friend hadn't seemed to motivated to shop for all the things he used to. He supposed it was a good thing since designer clothing was expensive! Why the Polish was so intrigued by that stuff, Toris could never understand. Traffic moving with the crowd was fairly slow and so Toris decided to speed up his pace, and by now rather nonchalantly for as long as he's been in New York. At first such a move of pushing through the crowd seemed a little unnecessary. It doesn't take long to figure it is if one wants to get somewhere in a preferred time limit.

The city was the same as it always was, jam-packed with an overwhelming population and different number of ethnic groups, yet it was easy to pass by each kind without realizing they were any different from the rest. It was a subconscious unity, undisturbed. Signs were shoved and displayed in close quarters, still noisy even during the day and at times even more obnoxious when the sunlight launched off their faces. Other became more invisible. One in particular stood out to the Lithuanian's interest, and he signaled Feliks to follow. After getting out of the way of the endless wave of moving bodies, Toris on instinct asked if Feliks wanted to stay with him or go explore some of the nearby stores. Feliks shrugged and stared at him rather blankly. Not even the slightest signs of care were in those dull pools. Defeated by this unresolved query, the brunette decided to have him follow along. Feliks kept up rather fairly with Toris until they were just two huge hoarding windows away from his desired destination. Toris stopped too once he noticed the blonde had halted where he was, lagged ten steps behind. He followed where the other's eyes wandered with confusion. It must be a smaller city than he thought. In the gaping corridor made of tiles and plaster walls off in a lonely little area was that one girl from C17. What was her name again? She's the one from Italy. No, no, the other one. Then it slapped Toris sharply. It was Bianca, the seemingly _ill_-tempered one of the two. She was painting it appeared. The Italian girl had her canvas on a dependable stand and a paint palate, hooked by her left thumb. Her cynical face was filled with concentration, as she moved the fine haired brush however she willed it to. Bianca had no obvious model before her. Maybe she was painting the scenery of the place? Behind the vigilant painter was a familiar face even if a hood tried to cover most of her features.

Wyktoria. Is that who Feliks was staring at? Maybe he had some sort of desire to be friends with her. The expression on his face however revealed something darker, hidden in shadows Toris couldn't see. Still, he wanted to figure out his friend's behavior and broke the questionable silence.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Toris offered. "Both of you are from Poland; maybe you'll have more luck speaking to her."

Feliks remained silent for a moment. Longing glinted across his eyes as he angled his gaze downward. "I don't feel like it."

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't want to, okay," Feliks replied in a sparked tone. "Can we just drop it?"

"I don't get what the big deal is," Toris murmured. "I thought you would at least be interested, since she's like us. Maybe be like her big brother or something-"

"Toris, would you just shut up, already," the blonde spat so coldly it caused the other to shrink a little. Feliks took a moment to regain his posture, realizing he'd gone too far. A swift glance made it obvious he had attracted the attention of the people around them, but he dared not to let his eyes wander where Bianca and Wyktoria were. Toris was baffled and hurt of his friend's sudden tone. Having felt it was his fault for pushing it, he backed off apologetically.

"Sorry," he quietly, not wishing to draw any more attention and decided to leave Feliks alone. It was always the best thing to do when he friend got genuinely upset at him. "I'll be over in the Men's Clothes Store."

"Toris, I– I didn't mean it," Feliks tried to get him to come back.

Toris just continued to amble away, his head lowered like a proud man's pride that had been mangled. His feelings weren't as hurt as it appeared, but they were definitely taken by surprise. Not knowing what else to do, Feliks gradually turned and left. He'll catch up with the Lithuanian later. When Toris' thoughts began to slope downward in a neutral, calm rhythm, a new voice interrupted his concentration and he almost crashed into a pillar that firmly supported the ceiling. Criminy, was he ever able to do anything he needed to anymore? Correcting himself, he looked around to find the one who called out to him.

"It's a small city after all," a dry humored voice said. It was Bianca, and Toris had almost walked right past her stationed spot without noticing. Both warm colored eyes were still deadlocked on her work. Where did Wyktoria go? The anxious girl was nowhere to be seen.

"She left a little bit ago, while you were talking with your friend," the paintbrush Bianca held briefly left her canvas, lapping up some paint before retreating to the page. "William came to get her. Poor girl can't hardly go anywhere without him. Admiring my work, she was, waiting for him. I ask her no questions. Wyktoria doesn't speak to anyone, but William."

Bianca pulled back from her work, observing it turning her head sideways a bit. Toris stepped behind her, cautious and curiously to see the work she has done. He was amazed by the neat blending of colors as they were smeared together, sometimes creating a new shade of vivid hues. Some of the colors were noticeably dark, but most were a generous and not too attentive or too dull to the eyes. Strokes were bold, drenched heavily in the oily paint, and some were bony and refined for details. In the image was a rather vague landscape with hardly any bothering of detail for the background. There was only a skinny layer of grass where the ground held underneath the two characters in the image. A lone, ghostly tree was the only other close appearing thing. The first thing that caught Toris' eyes was a creature dipped in the blackest of black perched up on a grotesque, twisted branch of the tree. It was clear from the careful handwork that it was covered in smooth, deadly feathers by the rare, lighter black areas. Some places were rough and jutted from the slender figure. Following from the subtle tail feathers, down a folded, pointy wing to the neck, it was clear a daggered black beak equipped the character's face dangerously. They were parted in a silent, shivering caw. Although it was small in comparison to the other, the second being to catch Toris' flickering emerald eyes, the mere presence of it was heavy and devilish. The angry flaring red eye, though small, made it so. Below the high branch was a majestic, prideful creature made up of earthy brown tones and a drop of warm tones. Four long, nimble legs stood below its body with a thick long, arched neck up to the head. It stared up at the branch to the dark bird that hollered wordlessly. Its tall ears were alert, beady black eyes full of curiosity and surprise. Upon it's long shaped face were the biggest pair of antlers Toris had ever seen. They were delicately drawn and painted like a tall crown upon its head. Eyes easily used the colors chosen to tarnish the canvas to cleverly reveal the branchlike antlers shape without being drawn out with lines. Although the creature was already wonderfully drawn with paint, it still looked unfinished like the rest of the image. Perhaps she was going to add more to it?

"You're not like us, are you," Bianca queried suddenly. This question stumped Toris.

"How so?" He asked her, hoping the Italian girl would explain herself.

Instead, Bianca cleared her throat and offered her hand, while moving a lock of her silky, dark hair out of her eyes.

"Hi, I'm Bianca Catanzaro. I don't think we've properly met."

Although her gesture was friendly, her tone was rather chilly and her gaze very awkward to meet directly. Dazed by her dominating eyes and still confused from moments before, Toris, by polite instinct took hold of her hand and gave it a quick shake. Her grip was very light, as if to avoid close contact. Slender fingers and simple, short nails were soft to the touch, although stained by dark and earthy colors.

"Y-yeah," he replied. "I saw you when Feliks and I were introduced."

"Yes," she dragged the word peculiarly. "Your friend seemed to enjoy the attention, although he seems to avoid Wyktoria."

"He's usually really shy of people he doesn't know too well," Toris scratched his head. "Although I will admit, lately he's been acting a bit— off. I suppose it isn't all bad, though."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Toris blinked.

"So what have you come to the mall for," Bianca returned to examining her work. "Shopping for something, I suppose?"

Toris explained he had come to find some new business shirts for work and that his old ones were a bit outdated. Bianca asked if she might come with, since she was feeling like she needed to get her circulation going. She had been sitting down the last few hours without getting up. The Lithuanian wondered about her stuff she has set up for painting. Without a word, Bianca nonchalantly began to fold and put stuff away. She had a portable little case for her paint and brushes, dumped the contaminated water down a little drinking fountain and to Toris' amazement, picked up her canvas stand and simply folded it. The layer of paint itself on the canvas was thin so the moisture left it quickly. Bianca had it made pretty well. He offered to carry any of it for her, but she lifted her load up and down and said it was manageable. At first the silence between them felt quite awkward to Toris and he wished to break it.

"So, you like to paint animals," he asked curiously. Bianca nodded.

"I paint almost anything, really," she replied. "But nature and animals have been more of interest. It is my belief that one person can be well represented by an animal. The same one can represent multiple people, but each individual can have different behaviors or traits that are listed under the same creature. They can even have slightly different physical characteristics too like size, colors, build, etc. For the majority of people I see in my life, I can see clearly what animal represents them best. Some are harder than others because maybe they have a mix, but it is unusual."

"Really?" Toris pondered on this. He's always heard of things like animal spirits and what they stand for, but never met someone who seemed very intuitive on the subject. In fact, back when he was much younger, during his Pagan years, he had somewhat of a belief in animals and image of power, strength, loyalty and otherwise. "What animal of nature do you believe represents me, then?"

Bianca looked into Toris' emerald eyes and searched impossibly deep within them. Her solid, black pupils seemed to contract and dilate like the lenses on a camera or machinery. It seemed like there was a split moment of confusion, but it all happened so quickly, Toris couldn't be sure what she saw or was thinking. Swiftly, she grabbed and flipped open a sketchbook she had, single handedly and led a charcoal pencil around on a blank page. The Italian had to take her time, because the supplies she held crippled the mobility of her left arm. When she was done, she handed it to him. The Lithuanian took care in taking the sketchbook from her, and dared to look at what she had drawn. The sketch was unrefined, however it was very well done, nonetheless. It was a stag with a tall, slender neck that had an identical impressive pair of antlers as the one in the painting Bianca did. Of course, the girl had no time to do the body, so she had only drawn some of the shoulders, neck, head, and towering adornments. The male deer himself appeared young, but the size and graceful curves of the branching crown upon his head gave sense of wisdom and age. It had a modest expression upon its face, but its ears were still erect and alert as if to listen to every sound of the forest from the hurrying ants to the wind blowing gently through the trees for any sort of danger.

"Impressive," Toris said. However, he wasn't so sure if a stag represented him. Never having thought of it before, it hindered his judgment of whether such proud, respectful creature could symbolize him.

"Who are you?" Bianca asked.

"Huh," he became confused again.

"I meant how old are you?" She somewhat snapped, correcting herself. The fire in her question didn't scorch him, but did seem to cause a drawback in his confidence.

"I-I'm," Toris stalled for a moment. "I'm about 776 years old. I-I was– born in the year 1236. Is there something wrong with that?"

The Italian woman just huffed and looked away, resting her free elbow on the slanted side of her hip. Her dark brows were drawn close to her sharp eyes. He wasn't sure whether to think he had done something wrong, or if she was thoughtful. The Lithuanian did look younger than her. Bianca looked to be in early to mid twenties. It would be a ridiculous subject, if that were the case. When she was ready to talk again, Bianca looked like a girl who had given up on a complicated math equation.

"Mind telling me a bit more about where you come from?"

"You really want to know," Toris was unsure. There was too much he could tell.

"Yes." It sounded like an order from her. Almost. "There is a reason I lack a history degree."

"History degree?" The brunette blinked at her. "Where do I even begin?"

The two continued to walk alongside one another, but kept a fair distance of air between them to signify they were not in a relationship of sorts or even close friends. Toris didn't seem to notice as he wondered what he could tell the curious, somewhat dry natured girl. There was too much history to tell of, so of course he thought of picking out important and interesting events. The larger part of his pasts that were like experience in the average life of a person that defined who he was. Toris was caught by surprise when he had been yanked hard to stop and yelped. A little melodious jingle cracked the air between them before he could question her. It was Bianca's cell phone. It didn't take long to realize he had almost walked by the men's clothed store and before he could blink, Toris had Bianca's painting supplies and materials shoved into his arms. Parts of the canvas tripod had jabbed painfully into his ribs and he had to reach down for a paintbrush that had fallen out of the holder.

"Ciao, Papà?" Bianca spoke into the tiny phone. From within the portable technology came a rough, annoyed sounding voice.

"_Dannazione_, where the hell have you been," the voice hollered. "I've been trying to get a hold of you forever, but you never picked up your goddamn phone. Seriously, what the fuck?"

"Papà, I told you I'm in Amerika," she sighed. "I've been very busy, lately, and Felicia keeps putting my phone on silent without telling me. You know she's good at pick-pocketing me."

"Well tell her to fuck off then, aye? You know that I worry about ya being in places far away from home," her father hissed. Bianca didn't seem at all fazed by her father's vulgar speech. His voice changed to a light sounding pout. "It bothers me to think my precious bambina is in danger. I never know what's going on around you."

For the rest of the conversation, Bianca finds herself trying to end the conversations as quickly as possible. Toris was looking quite awkward over there waiting patiently for Bianca to get back to him. How embarrassing!

X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x

I am so sorry that I have not updated this story in so long. I had a major writers block the last time I uploaded and tried to work on it, but coming back to what I had and started to write in the next chapters I realized that I actually had quite a bit to say in the next chapters. I will work as hard as I can to try and get some more chapters done. And in case it didn't translate correctly:

Bambina is Italian for "baby" as in the infant.

1 Bambina – Italian for "baby"


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